Mile High
by WildcatLizzie83
Summary: Chase and Abbie become card carrying members of the Mile High Club. Rated M for sexual content.


**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to David Shore, et al. Except for Abbie, she belongs to me. No copyright infringement is intended, so please don't sue me. I'm a poor college student who has no money anyway.**  
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"Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned off the fasten seatbelt sign. At this time…"

Chase tuned out the rest of the flight attendant's inane babble. He had been on an airplane enough to know the mindless drivel by heart.

He felt Abbie give his thigh a gentle squeeze with her hand. He tore his gaze away from the window that showed that there was nothing but darkness below them. He looked her in the eye and she gave him a wink before looking over her shoulder.

He couldn't believe that they were even considering this. Yet the idea of being caught and having to be through quickly excited him nonetheless.

He watched as Abbie got up from her aisle seat, one hand clutching her stomach while the other covered her mouth. She hastily pushed her way into the lavatory just as if she really was about to be sick. He grinned when he noticed that the two flight attendants had watched her go in with concern evident on their faces before they went back to their work.

That was his cue.

He got up and made his way to the front of the plane where the bathrooms were. He furrowed his brow in what he hoped would pass as concern as he knocked on the door.

"Abbie? Are you all right, love?" he asked loud enough for the flight attendants to hear and for his voice to carry through the plastic door.

He took a quick glance back at the flight attendants to make sure that they heard her request for his help. They had, but he wasn't sure if they completely bought their ploy. There was nothing to do except to keep playing the part.

He cautiously made his way into the lavatory after Abbie had unlocked the door. He took care not to step on her since she was down on the floor, hunched over the toilet.

As soon as he had locked the door behind him, she was pressed against him, her lips fused with his as she carefully maneuvered the both of them around the two by two box. She gently pushed him down to sit on the lid of the now closed toilet before making quick work of undoing his fly.

He was mildly surprised by how quickly he became hard under her soft touch. He didn't know if it was simply because of the adrenaline coursing through his body or if it was her whole take charge attitude with the situation. (He had nearly swerved off the road when she mentioned her plan on their way to the airport.)

As she continued to stroke him, he said a silent thank you to God for giving her what one of her former piano teachers had called "piano hands." Her large palms and long fingers made her a pro at mastering sonatas that people with smaller hands had difficulty grasping. However, that wasn't the only thing her hands were good at. He was thinking of something less cultured and a lot more fun.

She pulled away from him, her lips and hands leaving his body. Before he could protest her lack of contact, she was straddling his hips as best as she could in the cramped space. He watched, mesmerized, as she hitched up her skirt and pulled her panties aside before lowering herself onto him.

She firmly placed a finger to his lips as a low moan began to escape past his lips.

"Shh," she cooed softly in his ear as he sucked her finger that was pressed against his lips into his mouth.

"Don't move," she commanded in a whisper as he made a move to thrust into her.

"Babe, I think the attendants already suspect something, if we don't get this started…" he stopped short as her slick inner muscles began to contract around him. Another moan escaped his lips as he dropped his head to her shoulder, the skin of her neck and shoulder absorbing the sound.

Taking that as encouragement, she wrapped her arms around his neck in an attempt to pull him even closer while continuing to contract her PC muscles around him.

He was fairly certain that he had never experienced anything so exquisite in his life. He was amazed at how little she was doing and how much pleasure the simple contractions created. He had heard that Kegel exercises could do wonders for a couple's sex life, but this he had never imagined.

It almost made him wish that he'd gone into gynecology.

"Abbie… how? … Where?" he asked breathlessly. He couldn't believe that he was still forming coherent thoughts, even if he wasn't able to voice them.

"My diaphragm isn't the only thing that gets a work out hitting all those high notes," she replied furtively.

He closed his eyes at her implication. She was always rehearsing, sometimes three hours a day; three hours of hitting all those high notes. He would never be able to listen to her rehearse again without his mind coming back to this moment; 40,000 feet in the air, somewhere over the Pacific, and cramped in some box that airlines had the nerve to call a bathroom.

Two could play at this game.

He slipped a hand between their bodies and underneath her skirt. Instinctively, he found her clit and pressed his thumb against it; rubbing against her in slow, tantalizing circles.

"Oh, God," she moaned a bit too loud, even over the roar of the engine.

"Shh," he mocked, his lips brushing against hers.

The steady rhythm that she had created became more erratic as she came closer to her impending orgasm. She whimpered softly and closed her eyes as she began grinding her hips against him and his hand. Her breathing hitched in her throat as her orgasm began to take over her body. She leaned forward and gently bit into his shoulder to keep from crying out.

Pleased that she had found her release (though he couldn't be certain why he was pleased—he hadn't done much of anything at all in this; merely sat back and enjoyed the ride), he wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and thrust into her—once, twice—before coming into her fast and hard.

Once his breathing had returned to normal, he opened his eyes to find that Abbie was staring at him intently. He smiled at her and kissed the tip of her nose before she pulled herself off of him. Neither of them spoke as they straightened out their disheveled clothes.

A moment later, Chase walked out of the bathroom and back into the main cabin of the plane; leaving Abbie in the lavatory pretending to still be getting her bearings from her bought of airsickness.

"How is she?" a voice asked from behind him.

"She's doing better," he told the stewardess, turning back to face her.

He began to fidget under her critical stare, he was about to go back to his seat when she spoke up again.

"That's a lovely shade of lip gloss on your collar there," she remarked. "Your girlfriend simply must tell me where she got it before we land."

Busted.


End file.
